<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Rage in Silence by UnderTheBigW</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28779324">Rage in Silence</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnderTheBigW/pseuds/UnderTheBigW'>UnderTheBigW</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Critical Role (Web Series)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Character Death, Grog Strongjaw Centric, Grog is a loving Uncle, Grog makes mistakes, How Do I Tag, Maybe will make you cry?, No Beta We Die Like Spartans!, Original Character(s), Post-Campaign 1 (Critical Role), possible personality changes to characters depending on viewpoint</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 07:01:57</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,740</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28779324</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnderTheBigW/pseuds/UnderTheBigW</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Grog as we know and love him is loud and brash to a fault, but we love him nonetheless. His rage and war cry have struck fear into the hearts of many villains during his adventures with Vox-Machina. So what does it take to silence this great Goliath barbarian and quell his rage. Read to find out!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Minor or Background Relationship(s), Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III/Vex'ahlia, Scanlan Shorthalt/Pike Trickfoot</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Rage in Silence</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello fellow Critters and others who might stumble upon this piece. First and Foremost I would like to say I do not own Critical Role and the characters associated with Critical Role, I am just a big fan of the media and everything that they give us. </p>
<p>Now I know we are in Campaign 2 currently, but I have had this idea stuck in my head for a long time and have just gotten the courage to write it up and post the first part of the story. This has been probably been done before or many times, but I wanted to write it anyway. As you can probably guess this is my first work and as such I ask of you to treat this work as if you were a English Teacher who particularly does not care for me as a student and have decided to point out my every mistake and short coming within my writing. I do not want sugar coated sweetness, I want real feedback on my work, that is all I ask if you read this.  </p>
<p>Now this is a two part story, and I would have wanted to post both at the same time, but I am currently as a cross roads and do not know what to do which I am hoping you the readers can help me with. I have having trouble deciding what viewpoint to write the second part in. If you want to help me make a decision  please see the end notes for what to put in the comments for your voice to be heard. </p>
<p>That is all I hope you enjoy the story!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A great many years have passed since the triumph of Vox Machina and their friends in the final battle against the evil lich Vecna. Even with this miraculous feat, the group’s adventures and triumphs have unfortunately begun fading into legend and some even into myth as all the great deeds of heroes do. But that did not stop those who still remember the truth in the tales of legendary bunch of misfits. It was up to these true believers to keep the flame alive by passing down the stories of Vox Machina. However, sometimes a little outside help was given when it was truly needed.</p>
<p>A young man with a modest build and blond hair which had a golden sheen in the right light, was sitting at a table alone holding a weathered writing quill, pieces of parchment were strewn across that table, some had semblances of writing on it but were crossed out or scribbled over in frustration. Blotches of ink began to drip onto the newest piece of parchment as he held his quill above it. As the ink from the quill dipped on to the page it splattered making small amounts of ink to fly onto and stain the young man’s right sleeve cuff. He wore various piece of clothing that present he is from a wealthy family. He wears a white undershirt with long sleeves it is fairly clean, apart from the now black ink spotted cuff of the right sleeve, a purple vest embroidered with silver floral designs, leather trousers, with black knee-high boot to complete the ensemble. The young man threw his pen across the table and leaned back in his chair and sighed heavily. He leaned his head farther back to look at from his point of view the upside-down bartender and master of this establishment a blue dragonborn with a lanky build and said with a defeated tone “Another round of wine please good sir… actually just bring me the whole bottle I’m going to need it.” The bartender cracked a smile and had what the young man considered a stunning purple Tiefling barmaid bring it to him. As she placed the bottle of winter wine on top of some supposed scrapped papers.<br/>She turned to the young, frustrated man and said with a sweet tone, “It seems you are not having a productive night again Dalton, if you keep this up, you’ll become the master’s favorite patron.” She giggled before turning to walk away to take another guest’s order.</p>
<p>Dalton sat up right again and said “Ahhhh, she’s right I have been in this fucking town for what two weeks and I haven’t written a single story!”  he said frustrated his head in his hands. He then shot up from the table almost spilling the bottle of wine and said in an exasperated matter “Or rather there are no good stories to be told from this backwater town!” As he looked around the room, he received a couple of sneers and dirty looks from other patrons though he did not care. <br/>Another man spoke up, he was a human, bald with a thick red beard growing, the man is probably in his late thirties. He wore dirty cream-colored undershirt and brown trousers; based off his attire he had probably just gotten off work. He was large build most likely from hard manual labor of his work. And he said, “I thought my story was good!”<br/>The young blond still standing looked at the other and said, “Scaring off a bear from the lumber yard, using a left-over stewpot from your lunch is not worthy of being written down Bruno! If you had fought the bear with the stew pot, I might have given it some thought, but you didn’t!” Bruno sat down with a defeated look on his face, a couple of his buddies around him put their hands on his shoulders to comfort him. Dalton looked around the room again, and finally sat down once more frustrated. He placed his elbows on the table and then let his head slip past his arms and fall onto the table with an audible thud as he let out a muffled scream. <br/>Then he heard a male voice from in front of him that said “So, it seems like you need a story, may I sit and tell you one?” The voice was soft and eloquent, but Dalton could tell it held wisdom in it. He looked up to see a figure covered in a modest red cloak. <br/>Dalton without any care said “Sure, why not, can’t be worse than scaring off a bear with a pot, so Mr. Mysterious what is your name and what is this story you want to tell me?”<br/>My name is not important, it is the story that matters right? The mysterious man replied with small chuckle.</p>
<p>“True” Dalton replied with a light chuckle, “But do you not want credit for the story if I decide to write it down, it could prove to be of great monetary gain for you, I always compensate those who share their stories with me… well if they are interesting enough to be written down that is.”</p>
<p>“Trust me young one I am not in need of any coin; I only wish to pass on a simple story, and it seems you are the perfect one to tell it too.” The mysterious figure’s voice still soft but it held confidence in it.</p>
<p>“Well, let’s here this tale then my mysterious storyteller.” Dalton smiled, even if the story were shit, he could twist this interaction in a story of his own so it’s basically a win-win situation for him, especially if he did not have to spend anymore coin.<br/>The figure sat down across from Dalton and began to tell their story their voice soft as they begun but each word was said with confidence as though it had been told many times over “This is the story of the group named Vox Machina and its members. Percival Fredrickstein von Musel Klossowski De Rolo III the famed gunslinger of Whitestone also known as the Sophist of Native Ingenuity; pray you are not at the other end of barrel of his gun for he will show you no mercy. Keyleth the Moon Druid, leader of Ashari tribe, famous for her kind heart and vast wisdom, but do not anger her lest you want to see her mastery over the elements.” The figure’s voice growing louder and more animated after each name. “Pike Trickfoot the devout cleric and champion of Sarenrae, famous for her ability to show compassion to those who need, but also known to strike down those who would cause those she cares about harm, never be in between her and those she holds dear lest you want to discover how much power is in that tiny gome. Scanlan Shorthalt the gnome bard with the silver tongue, champion of the Knowing Mistress, known across the land for his conquests of both flesh and morale, leader of the rebellion of Whitestone. The half-elf twins: Vex’ahlia the beast-master ranger, the Grand Mistress of the Grey Hunt and champion of Pelor, known for her marksmanship and her incredible cunning along with her companion Trinket the Bear, He who is kind, but can be become as vicious as the most feared monster at his master’s command. Vax’ildan the paladin rouge, champion of the Raven Queen, famous for…” </p>
<p>He was cut off by Dalton who said in a tired and annoyed tone “Yes, yes, famous for his incredible stealth and vast luck, do not anger him for you will fear every dark corner for the rest of your life. Finally Grog Strongjaw the lumbering oaf of a barbarian wielder of the Titanstone Knuckles, whose rage is known and should be feared by all, yada, yada, yada. I am sorry good sir, but I know all about them my grandfather told me stories about them all the time even up until his death he continued to tell story after story of them to anyone who would listen. Honestly, I feel like I know them personally, I have always felt those stories were always exaggerated especially when of course he would include himself in a story to make himself seem exciting, but I guess that is just drabbling’s of an old man. Besides everyone already knows the legend of Vox Machina and its members it honestly growing old in my opinion. No one wants to hear those stories anymore, their mainly for kids nowadays.” Dalton then looked down disappointed.<br/>The figure sat up straight his voice while still holding the same eloquence as before became bitter, it was obvious that Dalton’s remarks had hit a nerve. The cloaked figure then said, “Even so, I don’t think you know every story young man, even your grandfather must have taken some of the stories he knows to the grave, that is for certain.”<br/>“I doubt that he was a real blabber mouth and didn’t know when to stop talking, he could talk an ear off an elf in my opinion.”</p>
<p>The cloaked figure’s voice became lighter at the small joke, he continued “I don’t doubt that for a second young man, but not every story should be told to those who don’t deserve it. I know of quite a many story of Vox Machina that have not been told to a single soul.” The cloaked storyteller now calming down.</p>
<p>“Oh really? Ok, oh mysterious one, then tell me a story that my grandfather has not told me of the legendary Vox Machina” Dalton said with an arrogant attitude.<br/>“Hmmm, I will but...” The mysterious figure’s voice became soft, but serious losing ab bit of its previous eloquence.  “You must promise you will not write it down nor you must retell it, for not everyone deserves to hear it and not everyone wants it to be told.” </p>
<p>“Ok then I promise, but if it does not entertain me you will have to buy me a whole cask of wine. No, scratch that enough wine that would satisfy the empty-headed goliath from the group you love oh so much. So, do we have a deal Mr. Storyteller?” Dalton said his voice dripping with cockiness as he extended his arm out and left it hanging in the air.</p>
<p>“Deal” said the figure who extended his arm to meet Dalton’s. As the storyteller arm left the cloak for the first time Dalton saw a pale hand coming from the red cloak with long nimble looking fingers, to which had met with Dalton’s hand and clasped it and the shook it up and down to signify a deal. The figures hand felt soft, but cold at the same time, he retreated his arm back to his cloak and raised his head slightly to show a smirk on the face that was being covered by the hood of the cloak before starting his story.</p>
<p>The voice from hood resonated again, showing slight hints of sarcasm as it began to talk. “Since this bet involves the lumbering oaf of a barbarian as you so aptly called him. I only see it fit for this story to be about him so that you can hopefully change your perception of him. But first let me ask you a question young man what do you do when the quietest in the room becomes loud?”</p>
<p>“I have heard that saying before, when the smallest voice becomes the biggest you listen or something along the lines of that? But what doe…”</p>
<p>“Good” interjected the mysterious figure. “Now what do you do when the most boisterous voice falls to silence?”</p>
<p>“I have no idea. But what does that have to do with the story?” Dalton asked becoming annoyed at the questions.</p>
<p>“You’re about to find out.” <br/>_____________________________________________________________________________________<br/>After Vox Machina’s triumph over Vecna, Tal'Dorei entered a time of peace. Each member of the group went their separate ways. However, they would always meetup during the Winter Crest’s Festival held in Whitestone, there was joy and merriness from everyone when they met every year. The group always acted as family and caught up with one another. Yet one year would be different from the rest. That year when the group sat down for dinner at the De Rollo residence Pike had made an announcement to which had greatly surprised the group. She was pregnant and was expecting in 6 months’ time. Everyone in attendance was surprised. Yet no one was more surprised or ecstatic than that of Scanlan Shorthalt. Nearly spitting out his cup of wine he rapidly stood from his seat and ran over to his wife, picked her up in a bear hug and began crying. Yelling in a excited manner “Pike! Pike! You have made me the happiest gnome in all the Realms! I will be a good father I promise, I’ll do everything I can to be a good father! I love you! I Love You!”</p>
<p>Congratulations were said, jokes were made, and promises were given. Each member saying how happy they are for the two. Grog was especially ecstatic when Scanlan wanted him to be the Godfather of the child. To which the large goliath accepted by picking up his best friend and enveloping the small gnome in his arms hugging him, nearly crushing his small friend’s ribs and spine. The night continued, and the following day each member went their separate ways. Until 5 and a’ half months later when they reconvened when Pike’s and Scanlan’s baby was born. The child was given the name Ventra. Each member of the group brought gifts for the new addition to the Vox Machina family. Keyleth had brought a bloodrose that she had enchanted to never wilt, be harmed, or die no matter the temperature, weather, or force acted upon the flower. Percy and Vex had brought a mastiff puppy a little bigger than the baby itself. Vex originally wanted to give the baby one of Trinkets cubs, to be a companion and protector. Percy saw the logic in her thinking but thought a bear cub a little too extreme, however the thought of Scanlan cleaning up bear shit did make him laugh. Seeing the logic in her husband’s thinking she would downsize the animal. Vex spent several nights pondering what animal would serve to be a loyal companion and would serve to be a loyal guardian to her new niece. Then it hit her a dog would be the perfect match and in which she would choose a large dog breed more specifically a mastiff being large and very loyal was the perfect choice especially if they were to grow up together.  Percy for his part in the gift had crafted a collar of dragon bone and hardened leather then sent the collar get enchanted by a what he heard to be an impressive enchanter on the neighboring continent of Wildemount which would give allow the collar to grow with the dog and allow the dog to have a longer life span then normal. Grog was especially proud of his gift, he had commissioned a baby sized mithril war hammer from an esteemed blacksmith, and it came out impeccable. The child would grow out of it quickly, but for Grog you are never too young to learn how to fight and this was a perfect starting weapon for her. Especially since it fit so nicely in her tiny hands, and it being made of mithril one of the lightest metals she would be able to swing it like a pro in no time. Soon the group went their separate ways again, however, this time Grog would stay behind with his favorite gnomes. He put his adventuring life on hold because he wanted to help raise the child, and with the booming business of Slayer’s Cakes Pike and Scanlan could use all the help they can get even if it came from their large foul-mouthed friend with a heart of gold, besides Grog believed who else would teach her to fight besides her Uncle Grog. </p>
<p>As days turned in to months and months into years Ventra was growing up into a beautiful gnome. She had the beauty of her mother, gorgeous onyx black hair adorned her head, her facial features were soft, but she had a strong jawline which she most likely got from her father, however her most striking feature were her bright golden irises filled with life, said to be gift from Sarenrae herself. As she learned to talk it was evident, she inherited her father’s cunning and silver tongue, and since she grew up with her uncle Grog, well she inherited his temper and that always came to a surprise to anyone that had angered her. The bloodrose that Keyleth had given her rested in her hair. The mastiff of which was aptly named Titan grew so large Ventra could ride it with no trouble on the Titan’s part. And like Grog had expected Ventra had grown out of the mithril Warhammer quickly, but she fastened it into a necklace that she wears everywhere. Scanlan noticing her attachment to the tiny hammer commissioned a craftsman to engrave it with her initials, a V on one side and an S overlapping a T on the other. Grog spent a lot of time teaching her everything he knew, fighting, drinking, and well fighting some more. However, Grog did leave for adventures from time to time whenever he got that itch that he just needed to scratch, but he would always comeback to tell Ventra his stories. This led Ventra wanting to be an adventurer, to leave home and see the world and kick bad guy ass just like her uncle Grog. At 14 she would pester Grog for more and more stories about his and her parent’s adventures. At 15 she would hound Grog to take her out on one of his adventures. Grog seeing no harm in this wanted to say yes but felt he should ask Pike and Scanlan first lest he invoke the wrath of his favorite gnomes, they may be small but Pike knows how to pack a punch and Scanlan well Scanlan can do many things with his magic. After bringing it up with Pike and Scanlan, at first, they detested the idea. Scanlan and Pike knew the dangers of the world and what could be out there, they were worried she could get hurt or worse. However, Ventra would not give up on this wish, so they promised her when she turned 21, she could venture out into the world with supervision of course. After the decision Grog would increase the difficulty of Ventra’s training. Grog’s previous training had prepared her for common thugs, ruffians, and of course bandits, but if she wanted to go out and adventure she needed to be prepared for Bugbears, Orcs, Owlbears, and any monster that wanted to hurt her. So, Grog continued to train her, and train her, until she turned 21. When that day came Grog would accompany her on her first adventure. Promising Pike and Scanlan that he would keep her safe. Grog is not known to be the smartest in the group, but he had enough smarts to know to find a perfect quest for a first timer adventurer. He decided on a simple quest that almost all first-time adventures do. <br/>Apparently, a group of goblins were attacking a trade route commonly used by merchants and of course said merchants wanted those goblins gone preferably dead, Grog’s favorite way of making things go away. Grog had packed the necessities food, healing potions, simple medical supplies, and of course the most important thing of all a cask of ale for the road. The two set off on their adventure Ventra leaving home for the first time was excited and Grog was excited as well, but he was also nervous for this was Ventra’s first adventure and he needed to be calm and not rage like usual so he could keep an eye on her. Though that could be difficult for the goliath because when there was a fight it was hard not to rage in the heat of battle, even if his enemies were common bandits who were either unfortunate enough or stupid enough to pick him for a target. Soon the two made it to the cave where the goblins were to be hiding out. Grog allowed Ventra to take the lead so she can get the full experience of an adventurer, but to also pull her back from any danger she could get herself into. As the pair traveled throughout the cave Ventra walked long strides each step bold and confident. Titan trotted alongside her sniffing the ground for what Grog didn’t know. Grog had to walk with a hunch because unfortunately he was bit taller than the cave ceiling, but still it was easy to follow along with Ventra for her bold steps were much shorter than Grog’s normal walking steps. Grog looked around eyeing the cave walls for any signs of Goblin activity and for any traps that have could have been laid by the little green turds. He didn’t see any to his relief, but he was not as perceptive as Vex, so he did not let down his guard just in case. Soon the two reached what could be considered the antechamber and there sitting around the fire was a group of six goblins. Thankfully, the little green shits didn’t notice them yet. Grog quickly knelt down next to Ventra so that he could whisper to her and said “Okay little V I’ll take four of them. You think you can handle the other two?”</p>
<p>“Come on Uncle Grog I can handle all of them all by myself” she said with a sly grin and cockiness in her voice and then she let out a war cry and began to charge the goblins around the fire. As she sprinted Titan charged alongside her, his loud barking echoed off the walls of the chamber, she unsheathed the two hand axes from her hip and raised them above her head. As the goblins looked up from their fire to see a small gnome and large dog running towards them weapons drawn and teeth bared Grog could see the look of terror on their faces, they quickly reached for their weapons with two of them fumbling to grab their spears while the other four were able to grab their weapons. Grog was a little proud of her bravery, but at the same time saw the stupidity of throwing caution to the wind. A quick flash of “is this what Percy and the rest felt like whenever I charged headfirst into things” crossed his mind. Though Grog was quickly brought out from his thought as he heard the squeal of a goblin as Ventra sunk one of her axes into one of the skulls of the sickly creatures that could not retrieve its weapon in time. A scream of terror resonated next to the goblin that Ventra had just taken care as Titan sunk their teeth into the neck of the goblin and then quickly fell limp while still in the jaws of the large dog dropping their rusty hand axe. Though as Ventra was getting her hand axe out of the Goblin’s skull where it fell dead before it could even try to defend itself, she did not notice she and Titan were being surrounded by the remaining goblins all of them weapons drawn and ready to strike. Noticing this Grog let out his war cry it reverberated throughout the antechamber sending the remaining goblins into a state of fear. <br/>As the yell began to dissipate Grog let himself go into a rage, as the giant goliath was now running towards group of goblins, one tried to raise their spear to in hopes have this new threat run themself through from their own momentum. As Grog reached the group of goblins the spear did meet Grog’s exposed torso, however, as the spear tip pierced his skin it penetrated only a miniscule amount before the shoddy spear broke in two. Grog almost laughed at what had just happened as he took out his Dwarven thrower hammer and raised it above his head and brought his hammer down with his full force behind it onto the goblin who had the hubris to point a spear at him. And with a loud crack the goblin’s head caved in and fell to the ground with a thud. Blood began to pool around the now dead goblin. His eyes filled with the rage and excitement of battle he looked to the nearest goblin still left alive and swung again this time to the side of the goblins head as he made contact Grog followed through with his swing the goblin was thrown across the chamber until he hit the walls of the cave where blood splattered the limp body of the goblin fell to floor dead. The two remaining goblins were left terrified, one even dropped the crude knife it was holding and began to run towards a small hole at the other side of the chamber. While the last Goblin of the group was left standing there basically petrified from fear still holding onto their spear. As Ventra looked at her uncle there was a mix of fear and awe as she just heard her uncle’s famous rage in action and watched him dispose of two goblins as though they were nothing more than trash in his way. Grog still in his rage looked at Ventra and with devilish smile said, “Your other target is getting away what are you going to do about it?” Ventra now broken from her awestruck realized that indeed one goblin was running away but it was too far away from her to run into melee range Titan could probably make it, but she wanted the kill, she wanted the glory. So, she instead took her left arm that was holding the non-bloodied hand axe and cocked it back behind her head and with one swift motion brought her entire arm forward releasing the hand axe mid swing and letting it fly though the air. It had flown about 45ft before finally reaching the back of the fleeing goblin. The goblin let out a cry of pain before falling to the ground its momentum from running carrying it sliding against stone floor, before finally stopping only a few feet from a hole in the wall. Ventra looked to her uncle and gave a cocky smile and said “don’t worry I don’t think he is going anywhere. Besides, I think you got one left don’tcha uncle? <br/>Grog began laughing loudly and boisterously, as he came down from his rage. His laugh echoed in the antechamber and said, “What do you mean little V all of the goblins have been dealt with.” As he finished his sentence, he grinned from ear to ear putting the dwarven thrower back on his hip.</p>
<p>“What do ya mean uncle, there is still one left right next to you shouldn’t you kill it?” Ventra asked in confusion.</p>
<p>“Oh, this little guy, yah I don’t think he’ll be bothering anyone else from now on.” Grog then pushed the still standing goblin with his index finger and it fell to the ground without any resistance. “He probably died from fear when I sent his buddy across the room with my second swing!” Grog then began to laugh again. As they were about to leave the cave Grog looked down at Ventra and said with a serious tone. “Look little V I am immensely proud of how brave ya were today, but what you did was extremely foolish. Did you notice how quickly those goblins surrounded you after you took down the first one.”</p>
<p>“But Uncle Grog everything worked out fine, I came out of it ok, look not even a scratch on me.” She replied with a smile and happy tone.<br/>Concern became evident in his voice “Yes, but that is not the point Ventra, If I was not there you could have been hurt, or even worse you could have died, and I won’t always be with you, listen you are not me, you have a good head on those shoulders, you need to be less like me and more like uncle Percy or aunty Vex,  you need to think before you act.” </p>
<p>“You know I hate it when you don’t use my nickname and besides there way of fighting is so boring!” Ventra whined.</p>
<p>“It may be boring, but there is a better chance for you to survive a battle if you learn to fight like them. Promise me next time you’ll think before you act. I don’t want you to get hurt and your parents especially don’t want you to get hurt either.” Concern still evident in his voice his voice</p>
<p>“Okay fine Uncle Grog, I will” Ventra said with a defeated tone. </p>
<p>“Good, now it’s time for the second-best part of a job!” </p>
<p>“What’s that?”</p>
<p>“The Reward and of course spending the reward on Ale and well other things, but that’s not important right now. Off to collect our gold!”</p>
<p>“Yeah!”</p>
<p>And so, the two and titan went back to the town collected their reward and hit the local tavern where maybe Ventra started a tavern brawl after someone made fun of her height or maybe not who’s to say. Though this would not be the last time Grog would take Ventra on a small adventure, they continued these outings every couple of months. However, when Ventra was free, she had taken her uncle’s advice and began to think before acting. She had even asked her uncle Percy and aunty Vex to teach her to strategize before a battle and better train her and Titan’s teamwork. But when her plan fell through during the heat of a battle, she threw caution to the wind and instead looked like a mini version of Grog smiling while sinking a hand axe into her enemies screaming a war cry to scare her foes with Titan by her side biting and clawing anything that got close to his master. And Grog could not be prouder of her. During their adventures it as though they were unstoppable, they brought down goblins, bandits, hobgoblins, orcs, and even a troll that was terrorizing merchants along a bridge. Grog thought some of these quests were out of Ventra’s capabilities especially the troll quest which she had tricked him into accepting, but she ended up coming out them alive, though he was growing worried. Grog noticed that Ventra was growing bolder with her requests on harder quests and battles. Two years after their first adventure with the goblins Grog noticed his little niece was growing cocky and that could be a bad thing. Grog new the difference between confidence and cockiness and he had learned it the hard way, he wanted her to stay away from learning those lessons the same way he did way as much as she could. So, one day he had confronted her about it. He saw Ventra at a quest board in the inn they were staying at, she was looking for potential quest listings or bounties she could take. Grog walked up to her hesitant on how he should handle confronting her about this, he was not good with talking like Scanlan, but he needed to do this. </p>
<p>“Little V can I talk to ya for a second?” He started, his voice calm and quiet.</p>
<p>“Of course, Uncle G, what’s up” she said with very little interest not even looking away from the quest board.</p>
<p>“Well, I think our string of successes are getting to your head and you might be getting a little cocky right now, I think its best we head home for now, you need to spend a little down time with your family and maybe in a year or two you can head back out for another adventure. I’m certain Pike and Scanlan miss you and you have to be missing them, right?”</p>
<p>“Uh-huh definitely.” It was obvious she wasn’t paying attention to Grog which he found disrespectful. <br/>He raised his voice as he said, “Ventra Shorthalt-Trickfoot look at me when I am talking to you!” Grog said very loudly and sternly<br/>Ventra flinched at the raised voice and the mention of her full name, and slowly looked over and up to her godfather/uncle to see him standing their towering over her looking imposing with his arms crossed and anger evident on his face. “I’m sorry uncle” she said in a quiet voice as she looked down to the floor.</p>
<p>Grog sighed “It’s okay little V, it’s just you need to listen to me right now ok?” Grog said his voice and the look on his face becoming softer as he knelt as to be as eye level as he could with Ventra.</p>
<p>“What is it uncle?” she said looking up to meet Grog’s face which held a worried look to it this time.</p>
<p>“I think it’s time you went back home for a little while, you need spend a couple of years with your Mother and Father. Every adventurer needs a break from the action, even when Vox Machina was together, we took a year or two of downtime so we wouldn’t burn ourselves out or work ourselves to death. Especially since death is a serious factor in our line of work. You understand that right V. I’m not saying you can’t come back to adventuring, but it is important to see your family, I’m positive Pike and Scanlan miss you and you miss them, right?” </p>
<p>“Yeah, your right Uncle G I do miss them, and I think Titan wants to relax a little as well.” She said with a little laugh at the end. </p>
<p>“Ok, how about you go back to your room and snuggle up to Titan and rest up for the rest of the night and we’ll head back in the morning sound good?”</p>
<p>“Actually, Uncle G, I was thinking we could do one more quest, you know a last hoorah before my little break is that ok?” Ventra asked giving her uncle pleading eyes her voice holding a little hope in her voice.<br/>Grog sighed. He knew he wasn’t going to win this argument, besides what is one more adventure going to do. “Fine, one more, but after that we go home, deal?”</p>
<p>“Deal! Here we can do this one looks easy enough.” Ventra said excitedly. She immediately took a paper off the board and showed it to Grog. Now Grog still wasn’t hot on reading and such, that is how Ventra had roped him into some harder quests that she shouldn’t have done, but this time there was a word that he recognized “cultists”. Wherever cultists were there was bound to be dark magic and rituals about and that was little out of Grog’s wheelhouse since he knew next to nothing about magic especially religious magic, that was more of Pike’s and Keyleth’s specialty. Grog looked at Ventra and told her “No, this is a little out of our wheelhouse little V, I don’t know anything about magic and cultists tend to be tricky, its best we let people who are better equipped handle this.” Grog took a quick look at the board and saw a picture of an owlbear and handed it to Ventra and said we will be doing this one. It will give you enough of a challenge, and since this is your last hoorah I will stay on the sidelines and only help if you truly need it. Consider it a test.” Grog finished with a smile on his face as he put the cultist bounty back on the board and took the owlbear poster with him.<br/>Ventra pouted but knew she wasn’t going to win against her uncle with this and so she accepted, but she had another idea in mind.  <br/>And so, with this final adventure for the time being chosen, Grog made his way to his room and sat down on his bed. The bed itself was a little smaller than Grog himself because it wasn’t made for someone his size, but he made it work. He went to his bag of holding and took out the earpiece that allows him and the rest of Vox Machina stay in contact whenever help is needed or such.  He put it to his ear and started talking. “Heya, Pike and Scanlan can ya hear me?”</p>
<p>“Yes, Grog we can hear you” Pike’s soft and kind voice filtered into his ear. </p>
<p>“Is something the matter, did something happen to Ventra?!” Scanlan’s voiced abruptly filled Grog’s ear drowning out Pike’s. The worriedness and panic of something happening to his daughter was evident in his voice. </p>
<p>“No, no don’t worry I’ve actually got some good news” Grog reassured Scanlan. </p>
<p>“What is it then Grog?” Pike’s soft voice becoming audible again.</p>
<p>“I know you two have been worrying about Ventra lately and have been missing her, so I managed to convince her to take a break of adventuring for the time being I will be taking her and Titan home after we take care of an owl bear.” Grog said happily.</p>
<p>“That’s great news Grog, thank you so much we can’t wait to see out baby girl again! But make sure she is safe with that owlbear they can be tough even for seasoned adventurers, we will see you in a few days ok” Pike softly said happiness in her tone.</p>
<p>“Of course, have a good night you two see you in a few days.” And with that Grog took the magical trinket away from his ear and placed it in his bag of holding and laid down to fall asleep. Grog awoke suddenly he looked out his window it was pitch black outside he assumed it was middle of the night. He did not know why he awoke, but he tried to go back to sleep but he couldn’t return to sleep no matter what he tried. Something wasn’t right and it was gnawing at him. He could feel it in his gut and his gut was usually right in these types of situations. So, he got up and looked around his room to see if anything was weird. But he found nothing, yet his feeling would not go away. And then it hit him Ventra. Grog quickly grabbed the Dwarven Thrower from the bag of holding threw open his door creating a loud smack as the door slammed into the wall. He ran as quickly as he could to the room the Ventra was staying in. He banged his fist against the door while also yelling for Ventra to answer his call. Yet there was no answer no sound from the room not even a bark or grumble from Titan. Each time he called for her, his voice grew louder and more desperate. Still there was no answer, no sound from behind the door. Grog decided enough was enough. In his panic he fell into a rage, he raised his leg to his chest and with all his might kicked the door inwards and off its hinges, causing it to fly into the room. He charged into the room and desperately looked around for Ventra hoping to see the small gnome in an angered state from being awoken so rudely by her uncle. But the room was empty save for some wooden splinters and the now broken door now lying in the middle of the room. He took a quick scan around the room to only see the window open letting the night air into the vacant room. Then it clicked in Grog’s mind. He turned and shoved past the now forming crowd of onlookers that have awoken from all the noise the goliath was making. He went to the quest board and looked for a single word he would recognize “cultist”, he quickly found it, and went up to the nearest person held up the quest flyer asked in a low sinister tone “Where are they?” The tired human looked at Grog confused and before they could utter anything Grog yelled anger filling his voice “WHERE?!” Shoving the flyer in face of the now terrified human, the human out of fear took the flyer from Grogs giant hands and held it in their hands shaking. After looking over the flyer for a few seconds the human replied still looking at the flyer to avoid eye contact from the intimidating half giant, their voice shaky said “the flyer says they’re at Crest Point Cave”</p>
<p>“Which way!” Grog demanded </p>
<p>“2 miles north of the town giant cave entrance in the forest you can’t miss it” </p>
<p>And with that grog left the frightened human, with urgency he made his way into his room grabbed his bag of holding and stormed out of the inn and began to run as fast as he could into the into the forest. It took grog eight minutes to get to what he hoped was the right cave entrance, he was out of breath and unsure if was in the right place, but there was no time to be unsure, Ventra could be in danger, He should have known something like this would have happened. He charged into the cave of which was void of any light. As Grog made his way through winding passage, he used his hands to feel the walls and guide him through the cave. He knew there was blood surrounding him even if he could not see it, he knew it was there, he could feel it, he could smell it, and it was fresh. Knowing this Grog charged through the cave faster than before throwing caution to the wind. Let danger be damned if there was anything in his way between him and his niece, he would either muscle through it or crater its skull. As he ran through the cave, he began to see trickles of light up ahead he came upon two hooded bodies lying next to each other. As he inspected the bodies, he was thankful that neither were gnome size, one was human and the other elf. Both lying in pools of blood, the elf held a torch in their hand and was adorned with several axe wounds to the chest, while the human corpse had evidence of bite marks as well as cloth and flesh missing from the arms and legs of the body. </p>
<p>Grog thought “There was no mistaking it Ventra and Titan are here and hopefully they are still alive, no they are still alive and fighting.” Grog took the torch and continued to run, with the aid of the torch he was able to see all the blood lining the walls, it was more than he liked to see. He came across several other bodies lying on the ground each one littered with wounds that could be accounted for the death of the person thankfully none of them Ventra nor Titan. Then he heard some noise coming from around a bend in the tunnel it sounded like a beast whimpering in pain. Grog rushed around the bend hammer raised ready to finish off whatever dangerous beast was in his way. And then the torch light showed Titan lying on his stomach surrounded by blood. Titan hearing the noise of Grog running quickly looked up and began to growl from his position teeth barred to try and be as intimidating as possible, however, when Titan noticed it was Grog, he laid his head down once again and went back to trying to nurse his wounds. Grog walked up and knelt next to Titan the torch light revealed several slashing and stabbing wounds on his torso and a severely injured leg. Titan was surely in pain, but he would survive, he was a tough dog, no Titan was a beast. Grog noticed that Ventra wasn’t with Titan much to his dismay. Grog looked at Titan and asked him anxiously “Titan where is Ventra?” Titan whimpered a small response as he began to stand, but he only made it halfway before he began to fall to the cave floor. Grog caught Titan before he hit the ground and gently laid him down and told the mastiff in a soft reassuring tone. “It’s okay boy you just stay here and rest a while I’ll go get her just point me in the direction.” Titan huffed as a sign of acceptance and turned his head in the direction Ventra went. Grog thanked the loyal dog, and before leaving Grog fished a minor healing potion out of the bag of holding and fed it to the dog who put up little resistance. Some of Titan’s wounds closed but the more major ones stayed, so he was still unable to move. Grog quickly took into account how many potions he had left. He had two minor healing potions left, one greater potion of healing, and one superior potion of healing on hand. Hopefully, that would be enough to help Ventra. He petted Titan and told him he’ll be back with Ventra soon enough. Grog then stood up and ran in the direction Titan had pointed, within a minute he came to the entrance of what could be the antechamber of the cave, light was flooding out of the entrance so much so that Grog wouldn’t need the torch if he were to step inside. Then, he heard it the sound of battle, grunting, yelling, metal clashing against each other. As soon as he stepped into the chamber Grog saw what he was looking for all this time, there was Ventra in the middle of the chamber, standing, both hand axes in in hand, breathing hard and heavily wounded. She stood above the body of what Grog could guess was the head cultist. “Ventra!” Grog called out to her in excited and relieved tone. <br/>Ventra turned to where the voice was coming from and saw her uncle Grog and said with a tired breath “Hiya, Uncle G, told ya I could handle these guys” and she then began laughing.</p>
<p>Grog would scold her later, but for now he was simply happy that she was alive and alright and a little impressed at what she could do. And then he noticed the body of the cult leader that was on the ground begin to rise to its feet, only two heads taller than Ventra it stood and quickly grabbed a hidden dagger from behind their back. “Ventra DODGE!” Grog called his voice terrified by the scene unfolding in front of him. Ventra confused started to turn around, but it was too late sticking out of her chest was the tip of a blade, and a sickly green light emanated from Ventra’s chest blinding Grog for a moment.  When he regained his sight mere moments later, he saw Ventra laying face first on the cold stone floor and the head cultists hood around its neck standing above her, their head thrown back laughing to their heart’s content. Grog stood there shocked, not able to move a muscle. His eyes focused on the still motionless body of his niece, there were no words he could say, only one thing crossed by Grog’s mind in that moment “kill, kill, Kill, Kill, KILL!” that single word repeated in his head and it grew louder and louder each time till it felt like his ears would explode from his own thoughts. Grog felt his blood begin to boil; his body was becoming hotter with each passing second. He snapped his attention to the head cultist still laughing. Grog’s eyes became wild but focused he did not care if there were other cultists or even an ancient dragon in the chamber, Grog had eyes only for the single bastard laughing dagger in hand still covered with Ventra’s blood. And so, Grog became enraged, He let his rage consume him nothing else mattered except killing the bastard and saving Ventra. Grog let out a deafening roar more primal and animalistic than any humanoid should be able to do, the roar was able shake the chamber itself, pieces of rocks and dust fell from cave walls and ceiling. While his roar was still echoing in the room, he charged the head cultist Dwarven Thrower ready to cave in the skull of the soon to be dead cultist. But as Grog was charging the cultist, he noticed the cultist stopped laughing and looked at enraged goliath. Grog had given away any sense stealth and surprise that he could have had with his primal yell. As the cultist looked towards the Goliath, Grog was finally able to see their face, though it was not what Grog was expecting, it was not one singular face, it was as though someone stitched together different pieces of faces from different races to create a single face. And the bastard wasn’t scared instead they were grinning. Grog did not care for they would soon be dead anyway. Grog was twenty feet away before the cultist uttered a single sentence “The gnome brat may have ruined today, but it is futile, my master will return!” They then began speaking some arcane words and then a hole appeared beneath him and he quickly descended into it, leaving no trace behind, the hole dispersed, and the ground looked as though there was no hole to begin with. </p>
<p>When Grog reached where the cultist bastard should have been, he stood there looking around for any sign of them, but there was none. His rage continued, until he saw on the floor the unmoving body of his niece, his godchild, his little V. His rage dissolved his body became tired and he knelt next to her tiny body. A quick flash of remembrance and he reached into his bag and brought out the superior healing potion. He uncorked the bottle, flipped his niece over and saw her face void of any of the life that it once had. He put the opening of the bottle into Ventra’s mouth and let the red healing liquid go down her throat until the bottle was empty. Then he waited for the light to return to her golden eyes. He waited, a couple seconds passed, then then five, then ten, nothing happened. He looked at the bottle with anger. The dam potion seller must have sold me a fake, they would pay for this. Grog thought and threw the now empty bottle across the room where it smashed against the cave walls. He then retrieved the greater healing potion from the bag of holding and fed it to Ventra. He waited again three seconds, seven seconds, 12 seconds, and still nothing. Two fakes! I’m going to kill that swindler when I get back! Grog thought. He then pulled out one of the last two healing potions from the bag, a potion of minor healing, he knew these worked at least from using the other with Titan earlier. He then fed it to Ventra, it wouldn’t do much, but it should help her, he thought. Then he waited once again, this time a minute passed, then two, then five before Grog started yelling, “Why!? Why aren’t they working! They should be working! Grog’s voice became louder with each cry with each plead and question. “Ventra Shorthalt-Trickfoot you wake up this instant young lady! Ventra wake up! Wake up dammit!” Then Grog’s voice become softer as his eyes filled with tears. Titan was soon at Grog’s side he must have limped to him after hearing his yelling. Titan looked to his unmoving master, and began to like her face to try and wake her up. “Ventra come on you gotta wake up, look Titan is here right next to ya, you gotta tell him you’re ok and everything will be fine. You gotta give me that smirk and tell me you had it covered and you didn’t need my help like always. Come on little V wake up, please? Vox Machina doesn’t die, not like this, never like this.” Titan howled in grief and despair, and the Grog wept, his tears fell to the cave floor like a midsummer storm, seemingly never ending.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>First thank you for reading the first part of this story and I hope you enjoyed it. But now as you have read in the beginning notes (hopefully) I need your help in deciding what viewpoint the second part should be in. This decision will not change the story or ending at all. It will only change how you will read it, and how the characters will interact within the story itself. I will wait 1 week before making the final decision on what viewpoint the second part will be written in. If you want to help my indecisive ass please leave comment saying either:</p>
<p>1 (If you want it to be from the viewpoint of Dalton)<br/>or<br/>2: (If you want it to continue from the viewpoint of the mysterious storyteller) </p>
<p>Thank you again!</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>